I have never seen something as miniature as Jason Fetz.

If I had it my way I would put his tiny little frame on my antique glass fronted collectible cabinet. I would gently place him between my precious moment figurines and my “merry wander” Hummel statuette. He could live there, in that case. When he slept he could curl up into the soft fur of my rainbow ty beanie baby, and cover himself with the bill of Quackers the duck. I would whisper stories to him from Jane Austin books about how strong and handsome men will come and sweep him off his feet one day. He would smile, then nod, and we’d both have a good laugh, followed by eating a pint of ooey gooey ice cream. If it were possible I would collect a thousand Jason Fetz, each with different poses and interchangeable outfits. I would hold and coddle these beloved china dolls and kiss each Jason Fetz forehead every night before slumber.

Until that moment I will just hide beneath his sheets and dream my dreams.
I love you Jason Fetz in all your tiny glory.